An Empty Vein
by RexVulcan3
Summary: My first fanfic! Yay! So this is the tale of Vega, The Sanguine Slasher, how he came to join the League, and his adventures there. Not the best summary, I know, but it gets the point across. Rated M for language, possibly gore(likely), and lemons if I can find some way to fit them in. I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT FOR MY OC, ROIT OWNS ALL. Please R&R! I need feedback! Arigatou gozaimasu!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Sup, guys and gals, the moment the world has been waiting for has finally arrived! I have the first chapter of my first fanfic completed! Ok, so maybe it isn't as widely anticipated as this makes it out to be, but it's kind of a big deal for me. It's not every day you write your first fanfic. Anyways, here it is: The Empty Vein. Not the best title, I know, but it was the best I could think of at the time. Please no hate, this is my first attempt at this after all. I am perfectly fine with constructive criticism, and welcome it gladly, so if you think I should add or change something, just let me know. Without further ado about nothing, here we go. Please feel free to read and review.

Dark. That's all he saw. Dark red, to be precise. This had been happening a lot more often, recently, but Vega had no idea why. Well, he did, but the last time he had felt like this, it had been when he faced Him last. But then... no. It couldn't be Him. He was gone, vanished, disappeared off the face of the planet, just as always. He had a knack for that. Cause unparalleled amounts of trouble, and then leave without a trace before anyone could catch him.

Vega had gotten progressively better at that as well, but most of the time, it was an accident. The last site of an attack had been 5 years ago in Demacia, and nothing was left besides an empty coffin and a disturbing message written in blood. It wasn't His blood, Vega was sure of that. He never used His own, it was always His victim's.

Vega shook his head to try to clear his mind. It helped, but not by much. He needed to get back on track, but that probably wasn't going to happen tonight. What he really needed was a drink.

Vega walked to the nearest bar in one of the seedier parts of Demacia. It wasn't the best quality, but it would do for the night. He was a frequent customer to The Graggy Ice, as it was a great place to get any information on just about anything you needed, provided you had the money. Vega could probably name just about everyone in the tavern, and was just sitting down at the counter when he noticed there were a few more people in there than usual, specifically Demacian guards. He drew his long cloak around himself so as to go unnoticed. Not surprisingly, it worked to perfection. One extra cloaked vagabond went unnoticed among the 30 other similarly dressed patrons.

The guards soon left, but one figure that was near them the whole time stayed behind. The lone figure walked up to the counter and sat down next to Vega. When the other cloaked figure spoke, and Vega was surprised to hear a woman's voice come out from under the hood.

"I'll have whatever he's having," the woman said. The bartender merely nodded and set about preparing both hers and Vega's drinks.

"You didn't come over here and order the same drink as me just for the hell of it. Why are you really here?" asked Vega in a deep deadpan.

"Funny you should ask. I hear you are hunting after a monster." replied the cloaked woman. At this Vega became even more suspicious.

"So what if I am? Why does it matter to you?"

The strange woman replied with a bit of a condescending tone, as if she knew what Vega's goal was, and believed it out of his league, "Let's just say I happen to be hunting this same creature, and it would be safer for you to let me do my job and stay out of this."

Vega chuckled a little on the inside, and it didn't take long for it to become a fully-fledged laugh. "You believe I can't handle myself? Listen, Sweetheart. Don't make me laugh. I've been hunting this monster ever since I was 10. I know what I am up against better than anyone, and I mean ANYONE. That bastard will wish he had never been born when I finish with him. If anything, you should be the one staying out of my way. You have no idea how outclassed you are."

Suddenly, the woman vanished for a second and reappeared on his other side. Vega barely managed to dodge the fist that had come flying toward his face. He grabbed her fist and held it in front of him. Activity in the entire tavern stopped as if Zilean had brought time to a screeching halt. He had to admit, this woman wasn't half bad at fighting, but she would need much, much more to take Him down than a simple disappearing act.

"You insult my hunting skills? Foolish boy," she scoffed and stared straight at him, his eyes catching a flash of red beneath the dark hood. "I have been purifying Demacia ever since I was a child. Never, and I mean NEVER. Underestimate me."

"Listen, Sweetheart. I appreciate the concern. Really, I do. But you don't have to go worrying your pretty little face about me. Like I said. I've been doing this shit for years. So how about you get up, walk out the door, and go get yourself a big glass of 'stay the fuck out of my business.' Think you can handle that?" All of this was delivered with a smile that was half condescending, and half maniacal.

Turning on her heel, without her drink, she stalked out of the bar in outrage. The bartender shrugged this off, and turned to serve Vega, but he wasn't thirsty anymore. He went up to his usual room and tried to sleep, but the cruel temptress eluded him. This strange woman had lit a fire inside his soul that would not die out until he had beaten her and killed his prey. The enemy would soon find himself on the edge of Vega's claws.

So yeah, that's it for now, let me know what you guys think, what I should improve upon, and all that jazz. Keep in mind that I am new to this, so there will likely be errors that need to be corrected. Any and all constructive criticism will be gladly accepted.

Signing out, RexVulcan3.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Hey, what's up guys and gals? Sorry about the wait, I honestly didn't mean for it to be this long. As Eren Yeager would say, "It's been 5 years." Not quite that long, but whatever. Sadly, my parents took my laptop due to falling behind in schoolwork, and what I have been using it for when I can is watching The Boondocks. I had no idea how awesome that show was O.O Aaaaaaaanyways, back to my point. I changed the first chapter a bit due to some feedback from my friends (I should probably get a beta reader), and because Vega and Vayne (spoiler alert! jk not really) just weren't giving the first impressions I wanted. My self-critical nature helped with that, hopefully. Emphasis on hopefully. Also, I'm switching to first person probably for good. So without further ado, chapter 2 of An Empty Vein!_

My first thought upon arrival was, _Well, shit._ My second thought, which was much more eloquent was, _I done fucked up._ Once again, I had hit another dead end in my pursuit of the bastard who massacred a whole boatload of people. Quite literally, in this case. A small boat, but a boat nonetheless. Maybe if I had gotten there earlier, I could have helped these people.

_Damn it, I need to cool off before... oh. Nope. Too late._ My vision turned red, until all all I could see was a deep crimson, the same of that of the victims' blood which had been spilled all over the deck. Luckily for me, nobody else seemed to be around, so that if I so desired, I could wreck this entire boat, and no one else would care. Seeing as this was my most logical choice, and an unavoidable one, I took it.

I called out my claws (think Wolverine from X-Men, but shaped like fish hooks, I can't really think of a better way of wording this) from my hands, the pain being meaningless after honing this accursed power for years on end, training for the day that I would get this bastard. I can't quite remember much after that, but from the state of what used to be the boat, apparently I went to town on that thing. As I was staring at the floating pieces of timber from the wreckage, I heard a voice behind me.

"So, Mr. High-and-Mighty, you still think you can handle yourself?"

I turned around, and was half surprised to see the woman from the bar last night standing behind me with what I assumed was a smug look of amusement on her still-hooded face. Gathering my wits, I responded with a quick retort.

"Sweetheart, you ain't seen nothin' yet. This is me on a good day. Anyways, do I gotta ask why you're tailing me when you should be hunting that motherfucker?"

"Hunting him can wait if it means me getting to laugh at your incompetence, Slasher."

"So you know my title. Very impressive. You know, for a three year old. Speaking of names, when am I going to get yours?"

I could tell that my first remark got under her skin a tiny bit, but the second one allowed her to regain her composure. She responded with a classic.

"Not in a million years. Although, I'm sure if you asked around, you would hear many stories of the infamous Night Hunter." She obviously thought I would be impressed by this revelation, but I shot her hopes down quickly.

"Yeah, sure. I'll ask around if I want a nice bedtime story. I'm sure it would put me right to sleep."

With that, she turned on her heel and left for the second time in less than a full day. And once again, I felt that tug in my soul telling me I had to keep searching. If I could get into her head that easily, it told me that she had a LOT to learn about psychological warfare.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, my long, silver hair going in just about every direction. I brushed it out of my face and decided to get a move on. If that woman got to him before I did... Hell no. Never. Gonna. Fucking. Happen. I pulled my cloak back on and put my hood over my head. One step into the shadows, and I vanished.

Now that my only lead was gone, it was back to the drawing board. I looked back on the previous places my target had been since the first major attack. Starting from Eastern Noxus, then moving onto Zaun, then Piltover, and continuing on that route until finishing in Southern Demacia. Judging by his course, he would probably be traveling on the Great Barrier. Of course he wouldn't pass it, though. He would have to be insane to, and past experience proves that he isn't. Sadistic and creepy as fuck, but not insane.

If he was leaving Demacia, then there would only be one possible place he would be able to feed: the Institute of War itself. The mages there would be strong, but compared to his powers, they wouldn't even be able to touch him.

It's settled then. I absolutely _have_ to stop him before he gets to the Institute and destroys it, or worse. They grant him sanctuary. That can't happen. EVER.

"Welp, if he's going, I guess I am too. Time to move out", I reason.

The next morning, I set out for the Institute. It's a long trip, but I figure that if I travel efficiently and don't stop for anything short of me dying, I can make it in about 3 days.

I attempt to comfort myself by saying, "At least there are roads." Right before the road ends.

Just fucking perfect.

_Gotta keep moving._

Those 3 words are all that is going through my brain right now. I'm exhausted, and ran out of water what, 10, 15 miles ago? I lost count. My throat is so parched that it hurts to breathe. My stomach gave up on rumbling around 2 hours ago, and has resorted to digesting it's inner layers of mucus. My muscles are straining as much as they can, practically begging like dogs for any semblance of rest.

_How am I still moving? _

Desire.

Pure, unadulterated desire for vengeance and a burning need to reach the Institute before _he_ does. Eventually, I know my legs will give out, and I'll undoubtedly end up taking a nap on the loose, dusty ground.

_Who would've thought that the trip from Demacia to the Institute was so long and tiring? _I ask myself.

_Bitch, please. No time to think about meaningless shit. Just keep going._

I make it about 5 more feet before I finally keel over from exhaustion. _Oh, this pile of dirt looks like a nice place for a nap_ is the last thing that goes through my brain before I black out.

I am awoken to the sound of some sort of scuffle pretty close to me. It feels like I only had about an hour of sleep, but I can't go back to sleep now.

"Probably just some bandits roughing up some unlucky traveler." I say, "Might as well help them."

Curse my soft heart. Wait, I have a heart? Whatever.

The source of the commotion is almost what I predicted. However, instead of the traveler getting mugged, it's the bandits who are getting the living shit beaten out of them. On closer inspection, they seem to be fighting a medium-sized woman with a black cloak.

_Wait a minute... oh HELL no. My luck can't be this bad._

Yep, evidently it can. It's the same woman who I have been seeing around since Demacia. I try to turn away, but I'm too late, she knocks out the last of the bandits, and starts walking towards me.

I weigh my options in my head. On one hand, I can try to run away, but that'll get me about 3 feet, 5 tops. I can fight her, but I have no legitimate reason other than being pissed, and she'd easily kick my ass in my sleep deprived state. I let out the world's biggest sigh, and resign myself to the fact that my life will just keep sucking indefinitely.


End file.
